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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24197335">The Story of Always</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotrigboy/pseuds/gotrigboy'>gotrigboy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Blink-182</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 01:29:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,666</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24197335</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotrigboy/pseuds/gotrigboy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of how Tom's pain killer addiction led to a song and the understanding that him and Mark would be together forever.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tom DeLonge/Mark Hoppus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Story of Always</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Slurred words were Tom’s best. No longer just pain, but a psychological reassurance and just denial…mostly, it was just addiction…</p><p>The painkillers Tom received after his back surgery were all consuming. They had to be, because his pain was. He tried to stop, for himself, for Mark, and so he could keep making music without the fog they left in his brain. He didn’t want to be another artist people told drug stories about, but he was young and to have a bad back killed him inside.</p><p>                                                                                                ~<br/>
Travis sat on the far couch fiddling with a guitar having already recorded his drums that day. Mark and Tom had been going back and forth all morning on the same two parts for the same fucking song and needed a break. Mark had gone out to get food and drinks, because everyone was so frustrated and hungry by that point. No one was necessarily in a bad mood, but it was a long morning of accomplishing nothing and it felt time to regroup. It was a well-deserved break. Tom could hear the clock on the wall ticking between Jerry’s computer mouse clicks and Travis plucking out gentle chords. He had been irritable earlier in the day, but finally settled into his annoyance and sucking it up. Not much bothered him enough to do anything about it at this point other than silently complain. He grumbled at the twist in his gut and could feel the churning acids eating away at his stomach lining. The sensation encouraged him to sit back, but while it felt nice to do so, he knew that getting too comfortable was dangerous. It not only alleviated his hunger induced nausea, but also some of the pain in his spine. But that only meant it would be more noticeable when he sat up. He hated knowing that. He hated knowing when he would feel pain. It was a terrible feeling, because he was always on guard for it. He couldn’t just do like he had before. Now he had to anticipate his movements and it fucking sucked. It hurt him inside. He felt old and a bit useless.</p><p>“I’m back! Who missed me?” Mark shouted on his way in. A smile adorned his face as he entered with a chuckle, because no one thought Mark was more delightful than Mark.</p><p>Travis’ head shot up, “I did, baby. Where’s the food?” Mark set the plastic bags down with an indignant look.</p><p>“I can see that I’m loved.” He replied sarcastically, sitting down next to Tom. But Travis wasn’t listening, digging into a bag for his vegetarian burrito.</p><p>“You know I love you.” Travis smiled and said once he finally had what he wanted in his hands. Mark gave a cheeky little grin and nodded. He was in a better mood than when he had left, the food run seeming to have lightened the air around him.</p><p>Mark grabbed two black bean and cheese burritos and handed one to Tom with a quiet “Here ya’ go.” Tom took it with an even softer thank you before setting it on his lap and leaning forward. The ache in his back was immediate and he huffed in pain. His head dropped between his shoulders and Mark instinctively rubbed his hand over Tom’s back. </p><p>“You alright, babe?” </p><p>Mark always spoke so casually when Tom was in pain. He didn’t want to coddle or over worry, because he knew it would only bother him more. Although Tom had also previously confessed that acting like it was normal made him feel like it was forever. Him and Mark both knew it might be, though. There was only a 50% chance of recovering from a back injury after surgery. It sucked ass, but the odds were better than with no surgery at all. That option would have guaranteed that he’d never recover and effectively ended his career of performing. But Mark was hopeful, because Tom’s physical therapist had been reasonably optimistic with his progress. </p><p>Mark lifted his hand away when Tom groaned, because he didn’t want to cause him any more discomfort. “No, it feels good,” Tom spoke lowly</p><p>Mark put his hand back and rubbed circles over Tom’s spine. “You sure?”</p><p>He felt awful because Tom’s back started hurting again recently and his doctor put him on painkillers again, but it killed Mark that he couldn’t do anything that could really help him. He just let Tom relax on the couch and would try to wait on him as much as he would allow. Tom hated feeling helpless. He was the most restless person Mark knew. If he wasn’t writing music or working on the Atticus brand, he was researching UFOs or walking circles around his house. Tom needed to be able to do things himself and with confidence. Mark couldn’t be by his side 24/7 and neither of them would want that either. Mark silently prayed every night before bed that this was just a dip in his recovery and that he’d be back on track. On nights that insomnia took hold of him, he spent them worrying.</p><p>                                                                                ~</p><p>     Tom opened his eyes and looked up from the sink into the mirror, not quite sure of what he was seeing. Did he feel better or worse? He hated that he did it, although part of him has no remorse about doing it…just a small part.</p><p>He knew Mark hated it just as much, if not more that Tom, or least that’s how Mark explained it. Tom didn’t believe that Mark could fully grasp what he was going through unless he went through it himself. But Mark was disappointed. He missed his best friend, his boyfriend. It was exhausting to hold conversation with someone when they were high. It felt like you needed to patronize them and just make it through to conversation without becoming rude with annoyance. Tom wasn’t 100% himself while high and that aggravated Mark to no end. Tom was still grateful at least that he understood why, and the reasoning behind it. At least he didn’t hate Tom for it. Even though on some days it felt that way.</p><p>The little frosted window sitting high in the wall alerted Tom that it was now dusk, and just how long he had been in there. He wondered when someone, probably Mark, would come looking for him.</p><p>“Thomas!” He heard Mark’s voice from down the hallway. It was light and playful; Mark had been in a particularly good mood that day and Tom cringed at himself for knowing he was about to ruin it. They were all living there together as a band while writing and recording the new album, and if Mark and Tom shared a bedroom, well, then it wasn’t anyone’s business. </p><p>Tom’s whole body dropped. He felt sorry for himself as soon as he heard Mark’s voice. He didn’t want to deal with it.</p><p>“Shit,” he breathed. He didn’t need Mark walking in on him like this again. Tom knew he’d be mad about it; how could he not?</p><p>Mark’s footsteps neared the bathroom, getting louder every other step Tom could hear over the ringing in his ears. He just waited. There was nothing else to do. Although, he felt good on one note, he wasn’t too high to not feel bad about how it was going to affect Mark. “Tom?” The knocking on the door brought Tom back from his moment and to the inevitable. He knew it was coming but it still made him jump internally.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Mark.” Were his first words out of his mouth when he opened the bathroom door. Mark’s face fell into an expression Tom couldn’t immediately comprehend. Okay, let’s just play it cool then, he figured. “Hey! But it’s okay, I’m just gonna go work on some guitar parts. Come with me! Hey! I got this great idea for this one part. Just-“</p><p>Mark looked less than thrilled at Tom suggestion and interrupted him. “Which part?” he asked skeptically.</p><p>“The one where the drums meet in at the bridge, know what I’m talkin’ about? It’s the uh,… Christ, what was it? I just gotta show you.” He looked as if he was going to lead Mark to the living room and he was all excited, voice cheeky. A lot of him couldn’t help it. You say stupid things and don’t know what you’re talking about while on pills, or at least it seemed as if you were trying to act like you did when you didn’t. You just sounded like a child sometimes. Except Tom still knew what he was avoiding.</p><p>Tom smiled like a dumbass and was just pissing Mark off more for avoiding the problem. “Tom, just stop.” Mark held an irritated expression and spoke firmly. His jaw was tight and Tom knew he wasn’t going to let him play it cool.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“You’re high. I fucking hate this shit. You sound so stupid! But you’re not!” Tom already hated this more than he thought he would, silently praying aliens would abduct him right then until he heard Mark speak again, “You annoy the fuck out of me when you’re like this. You don’t even sound like yourself.”</p><p>“Mark-“</p><p>“No.” Mark cut him off again. “If you wanna use pills, fine, make yourself look like a jackass.” Mark started to turn away before Tom realized how unfair it was for Mark to lecture him to his face. Mark had no fucking clue.</p><p>“Fuck you!” Tom spat his way. He didn’t yell, though, not sure if he could.</p><p>“No! I’m tired of seeing you like this! I love you, but you’re not you,” Mark had spun back around, the anger in his eyes faltering. “I hate it. You have to stop doing this to yourself. And me.” Mark’s voice was quiet. The way his words ended so softly, so weak, that just wasn’t fair.</p><p>God, did he just want to pull Tom in and hug him, hold him, tell him that he loved him, but he wouldn’t. He couldn’t because how many times before had he done that already? It always ended up the same. Mark gives him nothing but support and Tom abuses it-takes advantage of it. Mark had never felt that he was enabling Tom in the past, but he didn’t know what else to do anymore besides get angry, because it seemed to be the only thing Tom responded to. He understood that he couldn’t possibly wrap his mind around what Tom was going through, but he didn’t seem to care what it was doing to Mark either.</p><p>The veins in Tom’s eyes were thick, dark and bright red at the same time, but not what Mark envisioned when he thought of the words ‘blood shot.’ He guessed technically they were, but it was different in his mind. He couldn’t explain how, but that’s what he saw when Tom looked up. He looked pathetic, but Mark still couldn’t bring himself to do anymore. He just wanted to go sleep in another room until Tom was sober. But he didn’t want to leave him either.</p><p>Tom’s eyes shined, tears overwhelming the brims. “I’m sorry…I-“, but he couldn’t speak, because his sobs came up his throat preventing him from saying anymore, and then tears started flow. Mark couldn’t handle it. He closed in near as Tom slid to the floor. There were few things sadder than watching a grown man break down, but he could handle Tom, or so he told himself. Mark sat next to him, their backs against the wall of hallway. He brought his arm around Tom’s neck and used his other hand to pull his head in as close as he could as Tom sobbed into his shoulder. He couldn’t keep fighting when Tom was struggling. He loved him too much.</p><p>Mark whispered in his ear. “Hey, it’s okay. I love you…”and kissed his temple, holding him while he cried. Mark hated listening to him cry; it made his own chest ache. He never cared for someone so much in his entire life, and it was scary sometimes.</p><p>He just kissed Tom’s head keeping his lips to the hair on his head, eyeing around the room, wondering what to do next.</p><p>                                                                                ~</p><p>     Sometime that night, around eleven-thirty, Mark checked his watch, Mark got Tom up and they moved to the large, couch in their open recording area. It was this plush tan number Mark loved, but Tom hated. He couldn’t stand the fuzzy material, because it overloaded his sensory issues. Too bad it was the only couch large enough to house his behemoth body. Mark was really too tired to care, and he certainly wasn’t sharing a bed with Tom that night.</p><p>Tom had fallen asleep on his stomach, head in Mark’s lap as he dosed off while stroking Tom’s hair. When Mark woke up he felt like doing nothing despite the sore spot at the back of his skull. He knew it was from leaning against the wall and so he brought his head forward rotating and cracking his neck. God, he wanted to be in bed. He wished he already was instead of sitting on a cold tile floor in a drafty hallway. He didn’t feel like staying in this stupid house. He didn’t want to drive home either, though, and Tom couldn’t, so he decided to wake his boyfriend up. When he looked down at him, it felt wrong to see him asleep on the cold hard tile.</p><p>“Tom,” he whispered, “come on…get up.” Somewhere in the back of Mark’s mind it hit him how differently he spoke when Tom was like this. There were no terms of endearment and he heard how fed up his voice sounded. He wished his feelings didn’t get to him so much-weren’t so obvious.</p><p>“Mmm…” Tom turned his head on Mark’s thighs and yawned, not wanting to get up.</p><p>“Come on…” Mark nudged him with his hand and lifted his leg a bit. Tom eventually got off Mark and rubbed at his eyes. They both stood up, Tom just standing there while Mark stretched his own back and shoulders. Tom laid his head on Mark’s shoulder and they started into the other room. Mark got his best friend onto the couch and sent out a well-worn prayer to God that Tom wouldn’t make this difficult for him. Tom held onto Mark’s forearm trying to pull him down to lay with him, but Mark yanked away from his weak grasp and walked to the other couch. Tom gave up and just turned over on his side, facing away.</p><p>                                                                                ~</p><p>     The sun woke Tom up at about six. The rays of light shined through the sheer curtains that were drawn closed unlike the blackout ones they had bought for recording. Sometimes it was hard to get in or maintain a certain mindset when the sun was in your face or on your screen.</p><p>He realized that there was a blanket on top of him that he didn’t remember being covered up with. It was still quiet as his eyes darted around the room, quickly landing on Mark’s back. He was lying across from Tom on the loveseat, his legs sticking up off the side. He had a small crocheted blanket that had far too many holes have been warm enough in the chilly house last night. Tom felt awful. He wished Mark had lied with him or at least gone to bed. </p><p>“Mark…” Tom’s pathetic voice called out. Apparently Mark was already awake.</p><p>“No.” Cold, but it was all Mark gave him.</p><p>“No, what? Mark.”</p><p>Mark huffed, “I’m still mad.” He had that voice of indifference all humans seemed to possess early in the morning. Maybe it was because they truly felt that way when they had just woken up, who knew. It was slightly muffled too and it made Tom think about how Mark sounded when he woke up with his face in Tom’s neck, arms wrapped around his middle.</p><p>“Mark, stop i-“</p><p>“Tom, stop.” Mark said firmly, getting up off the couch with the blanket still over his shoulders about to walk out.</p><p>“What the hell? You act like you don’t even love me.” Tom hadn’t meant to sound as offended as he did but didn’t regret his tone once he had heard it. Mark should know how mean he was acting.</p><p>Mark sighed, his voice deep and sleep filled when he spoke, “I do love you, okay. That’s part of the problem.” He then walked into the hallway, Tom hearing the bathroom door close after a moment.</p><p>Tom sighed. “Son of a bitch…”</p><p>Part II</p><p>     Travis and Mark sat across the room doing something, Tom wasn’t sure what, but he sat back and watched anyway. He didn’t offer his opinion and didn’t think of one either. Even though he was well rested, he felt somewhat sickly compared to yesterday afternoon, but still better than yesterday overall. Mark had been pushing him away since the other night and all day yesterday after that morning. It was the last time they had really spoken to one another. His head felt light and heavy all at the same time and he still felt guilty on top of it all. In his mind, he argued that Mark didn’t know what it was like, having to escape the pain, but the more rational, less selfish side said that he did overdo it, and he knew that. He was hurting himself and in doing that, hurting Mark, and even Travis. It wasn’t fair to them or this band, and hell, in the long run not fair to their fans either.</p><p>Tom pulled his feet off the coffee table and got up out of his office chair. He was this close to the door, but stood there for a few moments contemplating the possibility of maybe giving Mark a kiss before he walked out. Of course it wouldn’t make everything better, but they always made Mark happy so it was worth a shot. He fully enjoyed random acts of affection from Tom and was quick to deliver them himself. Tom recalled one night, years ago, before they had ever even shared their first kiss where Tom had kissed Mark’s cheek. It was in the 90s while they sitting in a parking lot at dusk. Tom couldn’t recall the occasion but remembered the moment all the same.  Later he found out that these moments were Mark’s favorites to reminisce on. He knew it was cheesy, but they made him happy and Tom wanted him to be nothing but.</p><p>And with that Tom hesitantly walked up behind him. He stood behind Mark for just a moment, and then just went for it. He put his right hand on Mark’s shoulder and leaned down turning his head and pressing his lips to Mark’s cheek. Normally they didn’t show too much affection in front of Travis, but Tom felt like this was different. Mark didn’t see the action coming and one hand turned rigid, flattening against the front of his bass while the other gripped the neck a little tighter. Once he registered the action, he brought his shoulder up and shrugged Tom off. Travis witnessed the whole catastrophic event unfold, but Mark pretended not to notice and acted as if he was simply to engulfed in what was happening on the screen ahead. Yesterday Tom avoided Mark to let him brood, but now he wouldn’t accept Tom’s affections and that was worse.</p><p>Tom felt hollow, because it felt like he was being excluded from their little club and it was his fault, but the fact that Mark shrugged off a kiss hurt more. He walked off and out, Travis’ eyes following. Travis almost didn’t say anything but decided to ask either way. “What was that?” He asked nonchalantly while beating his stick lightly in the air between his legs.</p><p>Mark looked up him with squinting eyes in a half contorted face, clearly trying to find the best words to explain what Travis was just seen. “I don’t really wanna talk about it, ya know?” Travis shook his head to say okay. “I’m sorry, it’s what you think it is, but I just don’t really want to think about it.”</p><p>“No, I get it,” Travis really did understand why Mark wouldn’t want to talk about Tom being like that. He was cool like that. He wouldn’t push on it either and for that Mark was grateful. Travis just wanted what his friends did. Not a lot of people gave him enough credit for how cool of a guy he really was. He and Mark just continued working on what they were focused on previously as if nothing had happened.</p><p>                                                                                ~</p><p>     Tom zipped up his pants and turned around to wash his hands in the bathroom sink. Upon looking down at it he instantly thought of the other night and how bad he felt. Here he was again and thinking about much worse he felt now, because not only had he hurt Mark, but Mark wanted nothing to do with him. He pushed him away not a few minutes ago, and all Tom wanted was to hold him. He just wanted to go in there and wrap his arms around him and say sorry a hundred times over. As awkward and cheesy as it sounded…apparently that shit’s all true when you really love someone. He and Mark had something crazy weird, but amazing. When they met each other it was an immediate bond. Tom remembered thinking how pretty Mark’s eyes were and being weird out at the time when it crossed his mind. As far as Tom knew, he was straight. Like, he could appreciate another man’s beauty and the human form and all that. Human nature in general was a beautiful thing, but he didn’t want to fuck guys, and Mark was about as physically masculine as they got. He was all sharp lines in his face, broad shoulders and strong arms and caves. The softest part about him was his middle, but even that was strong. He was everything Tom wasn’t generally attracted to, and it didn’t make sense on paper, but it did in practice and that’s all that mattered to Tom, honestly.</p><p>Mark on the other hand had been slowly coming to terms with his bisexuality, having confessed such to Tom years ago. They had such an emotional connection when they were just friends and it was that deep attachment that led Tom to being in a physical relationship Mark. Mark had always had physical attraction to Tom, though, initially feeling like a creep being four years older, but as their friendship grew, Mark knew it was a genuine love for him. Tom had never felt like that before, and frankly, it freaked him the fuck out, but he and Mark were so alike. In the past few months, he came to realize, though, that they were extremely different too and that realization was scary, because he knew that meant they had to work harder at what they had. It used to all come so easy. Tom figured Mark was realizing the same thing as well.</p><p>Still, no matter what, all Tom could think about was how he just wanted Mark’s affection. He yearned for his touches to be reciprocated, and if not, at least welcomed or at least not pushed away. It kept going over in his head, like an embarrassing moment from junior high school. He just wanted to touch Mark and not be seen as some drugged out loser, to be loved. It was in between Tom’s sulking at the kitchen bar that he realized that this was a song. It was instant that he knew he had to put his emotions down on paper, even if they amounted to nothing artistically; he was going insane mulling them over in his head alone. It was a raw feeling with one idea running in his mind. He just wanted to hold Mark. Tom reached over to a stack of sticky notes with the advertisement for some prescription medication(fitting) and a pen out the fruit basket next to them.</p><p>He kept trying to write out his feelings, and ended up with just some plain shit, but it seemed to have a rhythm to it either way. He almost wanted it to be a song to Mark, not just his feelings and blurting them out, like he did in other songs, but make it as if he was trying to convey them to someone outside of just a song-or maybe that was what he needed to do? Say this is what I’m feeling and I’m sorry for how I made you feel.</p><p>“Come on, let me hold you…” was the first thing that he came up with and truly liked out of everything he wrote. He needed build on that sentiment. What else did he need to tell Mark? He was so frustrated he could scream it out and he needed it to be clear. What else?</p><p>“…touch you, feel you…” That’s all Tom wanted, always. “…always…” Toms started thinking about how he craved Mark and unsurprisingly his mind moved to sex. They hadn’t truly touched each other in any truly intimate way since the second week of being in the house. It really hadn’t been that long, but with the way Mark was acting now it felt like a lifetime ago. All he was asking was to kiss Mark, and even that alone felt like forever, but it had just been the day before yesterday.</p><p>“…kiss you…taste you…” God he just wanted Mark “…all night…always”</p><p>                                                                                ~</p><p>     Tom didn’t tell Mark or Travis about the song he was working on. He had some lyrics, but he needed to finish them with some music. He began writing the guitar with the lyrics, although he usually wrote music first, so it was a new challenge for him. He sweated over the guitar piece to make sure it fit the way he needed to go with the lyrics…this was why he never wrote lyrics first. He used the music as a platform for words to come out. Music was the easiest way to get across what he was feeling, because emotions couldn’t always be articulated-they were messy and vague. But this was a new situation for him and Mark, so when other than now was better to try something a little out of his comfort zone. There was a point when Tom was almost finished with the piece and Mark heard him playing it in repetition, asking him what it was. At least Mark was speaking to him on a professional level now… Tom told him it was something he wanted to work with Mark on and do the bass for soon. Mark was still upset, but that did’t mean they couldn’t be civil to work on the music. The band was all too important. And to be fair Mark had been being fairly civil, just quieter and with more distance between them. He didn’t want to fight anyway and God knew Tom didn’t, but Mark was mad and wasn’t just going to let it go this time after a few “sorrys”. He need Tom realize how big of a deal it really was.</p><p>It did sort of hurt to write the song, but in a therapeutic way, and in the end it was for Mark. Tom was giddy about that at least-he couldn’t help but be a little excited with the plan he was formulating. It wasn’t meant to fix things between them and Tom wasn’t naïve enough to believe it would, but he loved Mark and wanted to do this for him-let him know how he felt. He needed to apologize differently than all the other times and mean it for sure this time. What better way than a song? It made Tom a little nervous to have Mark working on a song that he was writing for him without his knowledge, but that made the surprise even better. The thing about this song, though, is that it’s all Tom. He was really involved in getting the bass right, because it needed to fit just perfectly. It came to the point where Tom decided to enlist Travis’ help before percussion was laid down.</p><p>Tom and Travis were sitting by themselves in the studio not sure of where Mark even was. Tom took the opportunity to tell Travis what he’d been up to.</p><p>“So, it’s a song for Mark.” Travis said simply.</p><p>“Yeah, I mean, like I said, I got like the lyrics and everything and I know drums are your thing, but I really just want you to know how important to me that it fits. It needs to be a good song. Not some half-assed like love poem.” Tom spoke a little low just in case, but he just hoped Travis understood. He usually did.</p><p>“I was wondering why you two were being girls.” Travis smiled a little before Tom’s eyes flickered down and back up again, and he knew Travis had already guessed it or Mark had told him at some point, but either way, Travis wasn’t stupid.</p><p>The look on Tom’s face made Travis put his hands up a little and pull them down just as quick to say “Hey, but it not really like I need to know. Just as long as it doesn’t affect the music, man. At least not in a negative way.”</p><p>Travis had this voice that made you feel tranquil, in addition to often being the voice of reason. He was a comforting person to have around. Which was weird, because despite his appearance of this hyper tattooed guy who looked like he had gang ties, his presence always put people at ease. That’s why Mark and Tom loved him so much. He always understood and was the most loyal person they knew. Tom took the moment to reflect upon how lucky he was to have the friends he did.</p><p>                                                                                ~</p><p>     Tom ended up in the studio with Travis and a few others having made sure to plan around Mark to assure sure he wouldn’t be there. Today was when Tom was to lay down his vocals. They had the song all pieced together and one last part needed to be added.</p><p>Travis sat back and watched Tom do his thing. He heard an emotion he had never heard in Tom’s voice before on any other recording and it hit him how important this was.</p><p>“I’ve been here before a few times…and I’m quite aware we’re dying…” Travis hadn’t gotten to see the lyrics earlier, so part worried him; was it that bad between them? They were like, perfect together. Maybe it was a little exaggerated to how Tom felt, who knew, but the image of them breaking up sitting in the back of Travis’ mind bothered him.</p><p>“Always…” Tom sang and a string of instrumentals played out after him to the end. He loved the way it sounded through his head phones alone and he couldn’t wait for Mark to hear it. He needed him to know how he felt, and music was the best way he knew how to communicate. Especially since Mark was so focused on the music and nothing else since their fight. And he was kind of giving Tom the silent treatment. It was all short replies and grunts, not a lot of real communication beyond that if it didn’t concern the record.</p><p>Tom made sure all the mixing of the song was done that night. It had to be ready to present to Mark, so he wouldn’t question what they were going to do with it, because Tom honestly hadn’t thought of a lie for that. The final listen through of it was a strange experience. It was Tom, Travis, and Craig, without Mark, obviously, but they sat there and played the song again and again. It started off with an eerie guitar and then a clicking and a simple beat. When Tom’s voice gets louder, the drums sped up in dramatic suspense. Tom just sat there, feeling so accomplished, because this song was everything he felt and was afraid of and he made it into this piece of art. He should’ve been proud. He had been self-loathing for days before this and his determination to make it happen was the perfect distraction from his pain, and when he wasn’t distracted, the pain was a reminder of why he was doing it.</p><p>                                                                                ~</p><p>     “Can you just tell me what it is?” Mark sat on the couch, waiting for Tom to explain what he was going on about. It had been several days since their initial fight and it seemed that Tom had been sober since, with his nose to the ground, focusing only on the music. Apparently, Mark’s reaction had an effect and that was enough to placate him for the time being. They were sat out in the living room alone and Tom jumped up off the couch.</p><p>“Just, listen.” Tom opened a translucent purple case and pulled out a CD. Oh, God. Mark had not expected this at all, but guessed what it was as soon as Tom had produced the piece of plastic. Tom stood there expectantly, looking nervous, shy, and excited all at once as he pressed play. The music came out softly and slowly built up in a tune that was not unfamiliar, Mark realizing that he had done the bass for it.</p><p>I’ve been here before a few times…</p><p>Mark pointed to himself and mouthed “For me?” Tom just pressed his lips together and nodded shyly. It was the cutest thing Mark had seen in a while. And God, he wrote a fucking song for him. Mark didn’t want to think he was easy to win over, but he knew he was a hopeless romantic, and maybe he had tortured Tom enough the past several days. He had been torturing himself too, not allowing himself to get caught up in Tom’s affection. He really thought Tom knew now how serious this was to Mark and he really wanted to make it up to him.</p><p>…and I’m quite aware we’re dying… At that Mark stood up and walked straight to Tom. He placed his hands on either side of his face, his eyes looking almost sad, and shook his head as if to say ‘no, we’re not.’ He leaned in, pulling Tom to him and kissed him straight on the mouth. Tom was so fucking happy to be kissing Mark again, but this was important, so he placed his hands on Mark’s forearms to hold him still so he would listen.</p><p>…and your hands, they shake the goodbyes…and I’ll take you back if you’d have me…</p><p>“Always.” Mark chuckled up at Tom. Tom knew he was just replying to the lyric, but it meant more than he even knew yet.</p><p>Tom looked at the ground for a moment before mouthing the words to Mark as they played along. So, here I am…I’m trying… Mark saw that loud and clear and showed that to him by kissing him again.</p><p>“Mmm.” Tom pulled him away, “Stop. Listen.” Mark smiled.</p><p>So, here I am…are you ready…?</p><p>Mark brought his hands to Tom’s sides before wrapping them around his middle.</p><p>Come on, let me hold you, touch you, feel you, always. Kiss you, taste you, all night, always…</p><p>Tom had led them back to the couch and apparently Mark’s little shrug off attitude was gone altogether, because he was sitting back with Tom, his arms around Tom’s waist and cheek resting on his chest. Mark listened to the gentle rhythms and subtle beats of the drums Travis had composed.</p><p>And I’ll miss your laugh, your smile… Mark didn’t move. He didn’t think about it too much. Just listened to the lyrics in understanding.</p><p>I’ll admit I’m wrong if you tell me… At this Mark couldn’t help but laugh. Tom gave him a gentle nudge. “Hey, what is it I’m doing now?”</p><p>“I know.” Mark spoke into his T-shirt.</p><p>I’m so sick of fights, I hate them… Mark looked up at this and kissed Tom repeatedly as the speakers sang out Let’s start this again, for real… Tom kissed him back, holding on to Mark as if he’d slip away, because starting over was very very scary.</p><p>Mark listened to the chorus start up again. He heard everything Tom was saying to him and he kept on kissing him. They weren’t chaste kisses, but they weren’t too intense either; mostly lips and small bits of tongue. They were those sweet, but sensual kisses that made you high. Mark pulled back a bit to nuzzle into Tom’s shirt and say “I love you.” in his ear. The sound of just the instrumentals playing in the background was all they could hear before they slowed down and became softer. Tom’s vocals repeated the opening line in a softer voice. Mark loved this song.</p><p>The chorus went again and Mark and Tom just lied back. The instrumentals played out the end and Tom turned to Mark. “Do you like it?” Tom’s voice was soft. He was being quiet now, and Mark knew that meant he didn’t want to destroy any kind of moment they were having, so Mark spoke low as well.</p><p>“From an outside point of view that is, like, totally not biased in anyway, coming from a musician…it was awesome. I love it. Coming from your boyfriend, I still love it,” he laughed. Tom smiled and Mark continued smiling back. He looked Tom  once more and kissed him. By this point, Tom was lying back on the couch with his head on the arm rest and Mark half on top of him.</p><p>“I’m sorry. And I really mean it. I fucked up and-“</p><p>“Hey! I’m not saying this fixes it all, but this is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me, so thank you.” Mark swiped his thumb over Tom’s cheek, “we’ll talk about it later. Is that okay?”</p><p>“Tomorrow?” Tom asked.</p><p>“Tomorrow.”</p><p>Tom looked into Mark’s eyes, “I really want to be with you always.”</p><p>Mark took a deep breath. “Me too.” He kissed him again, making up for lost time.</p><p>They both lied there, relaxing and dosing off, occasionally kissing each other on the lips, necks, cheeks…all until Craig walked in and interrupted their love fest, forcing them to sit up.</p><p>“I see you two homos made up.” Travis said as he walked in behind Craig.</p><p>“Yeah, and I’m getting fucking laid tonight!” Tom wasn’t even really thinking about it when he said it. It was all for the sake of joking until Mark bumped his knee against Tom’s. They shared a knowing glance and laughed.</p><p>“Use protection, kids.” Craig said far too seriously for comfort. Travis joined in on Mark and Tom’s laughter.</p><p>At that moment, it was all good.</p><p>                                                                                ~</p><p>     “Always…” a record label exec read aloud. He sat back and listened. They weren’t worried at all about them liking the new album. They all worked their hardest to make sure it was blink’s best one yet. It was the highest high they’d ever reached musically and no one could take that away from them. Every song was sounding more perfect than the last times they mixed and replayed all the final versions.</p><p>It wasn’t until near the end of “Always” when Tom sang his final lyric. Mark was looking down and kind of…smiling? Then Tom heard Mark’s voice after his own sing a softer Always…</p><p>“What!?” Tom looked at Mark accusingly, but he smiled as he did. Mark smiled back as they all heard the final “Always…” and the guitar fade out.</p><p>“Hope you don’t mind.” Mark smiled and laughed that deep throated laugh of his.</p><p>“S’better.” Tom whispered and smiled.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Okay, wow. I wrote this in trig class when I was 15 and my god was it terribly written. I've revisited it and changed a lot, but not enough to make it great, but I think it important to leave it that way. So as to retain that moment in time and where I was at in the life when it was written. Still incredibly cheesy and not in all the best ways. I could've rewritten it completely to make it a more recognizably meaningful story, but I know what it means in my head and to the people I wrote it for, so why rewrite history. Plus, I'm far too lazy for that. Maybe in about another 10 years ;)</p><p>Either way, enjoy my play on words for the story of how "Always" became a song and how they'd always be together one way or another. This is a work of fiction, but means a lot to me.</p><p>This is dedicated to everyone from the golden age, specifically simplyblink.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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